Crimson Christmas
by JosieStyle
Summary: The first Christmas Eve with each other, for a long time. Elizabeth and Peter were enjoying their quiet little evening, but somehow the thought of Neal being alone made them feel almost guilty. But it wasn't their fault. He didn't want to come. So... why did he chose to go in that cab during a snowstorm to join them after all, anyway? (spoiler alert for s4 and early s5) Nealwhump.
1. The crash

**Crimson Christmas **

…

_Neal felt like he was drowning. Sounds, one small moment so squealing and annoying, now nothing more than muffled hums. It was like he had fallen into a lake with no water in it. There was nothing he could feel. But still something made him feel like he was going to drown any minute now. His body, sandwiched between thin air, had no change against floating away from the real word. He was now in a different world. A land where there was no 'up' or 'down'. And no gravity at all. Just empty space that smelt like pennies. Tasted like pennies! Yugh. But oh God the crushing pressure came later. Something was crushing him! _

_A little aware of the surroundings Neal noticed that he was sitting down. Blood was rushing to his head. He was sitting down, upside down. And something pressed against his lungs. As the reality started to sink in slowly, Neal remembered something about today. Today was a special day. Today he wanted to tell two people that he liked them. One eye spontaneously popped open. A flash of hard white light was hurting his head. To bright! To real! To direct! Neal wasn't ready yet. He wasn't ready to know that he wasn't safe. Then… someone screamed out of pain and confusing. And unfortunately Neal noticed that it came from his mouth. Now both eyes popped open. And he saw blue and red, flashing at him dizzily. 'Oh no!' he thought, finally getting a bit more aware. He just had been in a car accident! _

_He was stuck. There was no way he could get out of here. His hands were too heavy. His stomach burned. His legs numb. _

_Now, the only thing he could hear was the sound of crackling and shattering glass under moving feet. Along with a weird crunchy sound, like someone was walking on… The Snow! _

"_Hey, we got a life one in here! Hurry, get the stretcher. Oh man that looks… Well. Hold on, Sir." Neal nodded automatically. Then he lost track of everything. _

_Neal felt very light. He was drifting on air. Cold icy air and small little kisses from the bypassing birds attack his face and hands for no reason at all. _

_Another wave of cold air made him drift further from his place. Time must've been passed without any notice… _

_And when his eyes were forced open by a rubbery hand Neal could finally see that he wasn't drowning nor flying away, but in fact very stuck between cold metal._

_The cab was turned. Up was down again. The blood flow in his head felt better now. _

_Voices were calling at him. Very eager to know how he felt and where it hurt. Neal still couldn't quite put his finger on it were he was not okay but knew that something wasn't feeling good either. Hands were all over him now. Someone said something about a 'nasty fracture' and 'major artery'. Then a few men started counted down to do something, whatever that meant. For a moment Neal lost track of time again but noticed how weak he felt, now that he was lying down. Snowflakes were falling on him. And that was the moment Neal knew that he shouldn't be here at all. His short panic attack he was having at the moment was hushed away by a low manly voice. "It's okay buddy. We get you to a hospital soon, alright?" a strong voice caught his ears. A short stabbing pain bloomed up below his right hip and above his shivering knee. "Stop panicking. You are in good hands. Let me take care of the wound, sir. Sir?" _

_No one told him what was going on with him. He wasn't panicking. He was… but..._

_Words like: "shock" and "O-neg" got his ears before the noises started to fade again. Replaced by a little voice inside Neal's head that told him this was all a big nightmare. _

_Until they freed his leg. _

…

It had been a crazy couple of months for Peter Burke. After doing some time in prison, being promoted and getting to be Neal's handler again, he could say that it was time for him and his wife to get a break of this. After all the up's and down's they needed this Christmas Eve so much. Enjoying good food. Watching old cheesy movies while getting spoiled with gifts for each other.

Now to think of it, this actually was their first Christmas Eve they spend together for a long time. Without family or friends. And yes… a Christmas Eve without Neal Caffrey as well. It was kind of exiting. But also… kind of strange.

Both of them never expected to feel this guilty without their ex-convict. Not that he wasn't invited, or anything. They both called him too much already. But with no success. His answer was sort of always the same.

"_It's a family thing, Peter. I am not family. Not anymore. All I do is making a mess of your life, and Elizabeth's. I can't take another fall. You don't deserve this. Merry Christmas. And I am sorry."_

Something had changed between them.

After the years of working together and occasionally having him over for dinner, Neal was suddenly very absent these last few months. And that was actually kind of sad, because Neal was welcome here, Even if his old man framed Peter for the dead of Senator Pratt. Neal probably felt really bad about this. Even though this wasn't his fault, and even though he managed to set things right, Neal had changed around them. And despite the kind words from his wife, sending him tons of messages on his phone, Neal still didn't want to come over.

Of course this hurt a bit. Peter knew how responsible Neal felt for what his own father did to him. And of course Neal obviously didn't care how many times he had told him that this wasn't his fault. That Neal didn't pull that trigger on Pratt, but only his father did.

Peter wanted to forget this. But this thing was drawing a line between them, and their relationship. It was a very thin and invisible line. And none of them wanted it to be there. But it was.

And Neal probably was a bit more aware of this line than he needed to.

Poor Neal… now he bailed out on that one thing he had beside his uncertain life. And that one thing he needed so much. Friends. A place to be when he was feeling blue.

When Peter first told Elizabeth that Neal wouldn't come for this reason, her face fell. Peter didn't quite understand why she was that sad about it. She had always told him to be careful.

But El was actually kind of worried this thing had something to do with her. She had sort of blamed Neal for turning her husband into one of his kind in order to get what he wanted. Not with these words. But she certainly had mentioned to him, once or twice, that he was in fact a criminal who did some time in prison as well. And also that if Peter would stay in there, Neal would go back there himself. After he managed to get Peter free, with all dropped charges, Elizabeth was starting to worry Neal did something bad and dangerous because she asked him to do so. In order to fix what he broke in their trusting relationship. Again… not with these words… but sadly very close.

And with Neal bailing out on Christmas Eve with them she had her reasons to feel a bit unpleasant about this. Was she right? Did Neal something bad for her? Did he have gotten himself into trouble for her and Peter? Something that was going to backfire any time soon?

Again… a bad feeling was coming over her.

"Hon? Did you check in on Neal this evening?" she asked then. Peter, who was sitting in the living room while waiting impatiently for dinner that El was working on for the whole day, looked up from his case file.

"Elle, I called him two times already. Don't worry so much. Neal is a grown man. He said he wanted to be alone this evening. June is in Italy, visiting family and friends and he has to stay on dog duty for the whole holiday season, he said. And you know how or Satch thinks about small dogs." Peter was playing dumb. Not only for her wife; but kinda more for himself. He wasn't planning on feeling this concerned about his friend this whole day, either. But it just happened. The sad feeling about Neal wanting to be home alone for Christmas sort of sneaked up on him. And he couldn't stop it. Acting like it didn't concern him was a hard thing to do. Especially if his wife wasn't someone to let herself get fooled easily.

"Alright. Then I call him one more time. And I promise I will stop this conversation this whole evening." Elizabeth had her phone ready fast. "It's just that…. Something isn't feeling right." And it made Peter laugh.

"No kidding! Neal is always up to something. But I know exactly what you're saying. He was never been this obvious. Maybe it's a good idea to call him, hon. If you can't persuade him into doing something normal like a normal person would do on a Christmas Eve, then no one can."

She smiled. But her eyes wandered to the TV who was muted down. With a frown she dropped the phone and nodded to the news images. "Peter. Turn it up would you?" she asked a bit dazed. Peter, who never took an interest in the TV finally noticed what was going on.

Apparently a nasty snow storm was hanging over New York. Some of the roads, according to the news, were already unattainable. Five inches of snow already, and at least another seven would come.

Sure they noticed the thick grey clouds all day. But since it was already dark outside, and they weren't planning on leaving their house, they never even looked outside or noticed that it was actually snowing pretty hard.

"Well… apparently Neal is better off at home right now. So maybe you should let it go. Getting through this weather always ends up bad." Elizabeth bit her lip. Peter was right.

She knew that. The weather in New York was always 'all or nothing'. That meant that if it was going to snow… it would snow hard! Neal was never going to be able to get here safely. With a sigh she put her phone away.

"You're right." She sounded almost disappointed. But that odd feeling never left her stomach…

…

As the snow was falling even harder and harder, during their quiet evening, Peter was getting more and more anxious. He had enjoyed his dinner and Elizabeth as well but something kept bugging him.

_Neal._

_Neal._

_Something with Neal._

"That's it. Now I am going to call him. See if he is okay. Maybe Mozzie is keeping him company," Peter muttered frustrated.

Elizabeth smiled fondly while thinking about the same thing.

"That's very fatherly of you, agent Burke. Go call him. Here, use mine. Your battery is getting low, Hon. I keep telling you to buy a new one but you never listen to me." Peter looked at his telephone screen. Revealing her good point. "Yeah. I will buy a new one after Christmas. I promise," Peter muttered. Elizabeth was always right.

Without noticing that Peter called directly to Neal's private number, someone was picking up the phone who wasn't Neal at all.

"_Suit,"_ the strong, and yet humorously flat, voice spoke.

"Mozz? Hi. Uh Merry Christmas by the way…"

"_Yeah... well. What makes you think that, mister?"_ Mozzie spoke again. Finally revealing his tipsiness.

One annoyed, and yet amused look at his grinning wife, Peter groaned annoyed.

"Can I talk to Neal, now?"

"… _To Neal? What do you mean? Isn't he with you?"_

That got them actually quite confused.

"Wait a minute… he was planning to come after all? What did he say?" Peter asked stunned.

Elizabeth had a bad feeling about this.

"He isn't stuck in traffic is he? When did he leave?"

"_I… uh. A few hours ago. But the snow wasn't that bad back then. He called me over to babysit the dog."_ Now, Mozzie was getting worried as well.

"Mozz… what aren't you telling me? Should I be worried? Come on. I have that odd feeling all day," Peter tried. His hand was getting tense around the phone. He almost sounded desperate. This had shocked Elizabeth. Because Peter's intuition about Neal's wellbeing was never wrong. "Is he in trouble?" she asked. The look in her husband eyes showed her that he was almost sure of it but didn't know.

"_Sorry. This is where I take off the plane. I will never betray my friend by talking about him behind his back to a suit… Suit. But uhh… I don't think he is in great danger or anything. Probably just stuck in traffic. Call him. And then… call me back, alright? I don't want him to think that I am turning soft about him."_

"We'll do." And right when Peter ends the call, Peter's phone rang. The caller ID showed them Neal's name.

Elle got it in a fast motion.

"Neal!" she almost yelled.

Crackling sounds where made. Then a few mumbling voices in which Elizabeth didn't recognize.

"Are we speaking to Mister or Misses Burke?" a male voice spoke. The reception wasn't very good. And that could only mean that they were put onto speaker, or that Neal's phone was damaged somehow.

Either way, it was scary to think about what this could mean. Peter grunted out of concern.

"This is Agent Burke. Go ahead," he spoke flatly; trying hard to not sound too emotional.

"_Agent? Well, that explains a lot. Sorry. Hello agent Burke. This is Doctor John Baldwin from the Maimonides Medical Center on 48th Street and Tenth Ave."_ There was a long pause, probably meant to give him some time to let the word 'hospital' sink in before getting further.

"Yeah," Peter answered, looking frightened at his wife.

"_Yeah, we have a man being brought here with an open bone fracture, claiming to be an FBI agent. He couldn't tell his name nor address but said to look up your name in his phone to ask if you would come over in order to remove his anklet monitor device. I think he is going to need surgrey but we have to make a scan first." _

"A scan? What happened to him? Did he break something? Is he alright?" Elizabeth gasped. Her hand claps on her mouth.

"_Car accident. A cab got hit by a truck, about an hour ago. This poor guy just happens to be in it. His right femur is broken and he lost some blood. But otherwise he is quite lucky to be alive. Cabdriver didn't survive. Uh enough said... I am aware this is sounding very scary over the phone and all. I was wondering however what to do with the anklet? Is there some protocol? Because we didn't know what to do with it. I suspected he was some fugitive or something. That's why I wasn't sure that he was telling the truth about being a cop. Because, cops usually don't wear that kind of jewelry."_

It was understandable to be a bit confused about this.

"He isn't a cop. It's uhh… kind of a long story. But Neal Caffrey is my responsibility. He works for the FBI under my supervision. But about that, Doctor Baldwin, if you have to cut off the anklet for medical uses you can just cut it. But before you do there are a few things you should do first, before the Marshals are storming in on you. There is a tracking number on the left side of the anklet. I can give you the number from the marshal office. You have to inform them first before you do anything alright?"

"_Sure. Thanks again, agent Burke. This is the first time we get to do that, sir. But… just to be sure, is this man a bad criminal. A violent type, I mean?"_

Peter suddenly felt the urge to be there.

"No, he isn't. But you are having a good point there. The procedure of this situation also involves a certain cop to be there at all times, if the anklet is going to be removed. Do you have someone in the building who could stay with him until I arrive? Otherwise he has to be restrained until I get there. I would like to come in and take that responsibility as soon as I can."

"_Yeah, we have someone, but… that's not really necessary. The patient has a broken femur. He isn't going anywhere."_

"I know, Doctor. But those are the rules. I'll be there soon."

"_Well, yes of course, agent Burke. But there is one little problem. There were a lot of accidents on the road already. It's very dangerous. I advise you to come on foot, if that's possible?" _

Elizabeth was already in tears but Peter stayed strong, because he was needed.

"That hospital should be not far from our house. It's maybe a ten to fifteen minute walk. Is Neal still conscious?" Peter had to ask. Because he was pretty sure he heard him moan in the background.

That made the doctor chuckle a bit.

"_Yeah he is. Your friend was pleading to put you onto speaker. I couldn't ignore those pleading eyes. And I'm actually glad I did. He is finally calming down. I think it's because he is listening to your voice."_

That was reassuring. Peter took a deep breath and gathered his coat in the meantime. Elle helped him to put it on.

"Can I talk to him?" he asked hopefully. The phone made a few crackling sounds that indicated that it was being moved. Then, a faint chuckling sound was being heard.

"_Hey, Pet'r. I bought you a-a gift.. b-but it broke… sorry," a faint voice started talking immediately. _

It was Neal's. He was okay! Peter stopped whatever he was doing and looked up at his wife with a great smile on his lips.

"My God. You almost gave us a heart attack, buddy. What happened? How bad is it?" Neal laughed over the phone. But somehow he ended up groaning in pain. Then the phone got passed to the doctor.

"_Yeah, he is fine but… we need to get him under soon, in order to restore the fracture, agent Burke. We will take good care of him. But, seriously… I don't think Neal is going to last any longer with this amount of morphine. See you soon. He is getting really tired now." _

"Alright alright. Thanks for calling us. And tell Neal to relax, we are on our way."

El was rolling a shawl over his neck and handed him a pair of warm hand cloves. " Ow hon, wait. Don't forget about the booths I bought for you." A package was pulled from under the tree. She had bought it as a gift he would get this evening but since this evening was a bust she had to give it to him now. Now he would need it this.

Peter looked at the wrappings being undone by herself and smiled fondly. "They look nice, Hon. Thanks. Very thoughtful of you." She smiled halfhearted, her mind was on the horrific image of Neal being hurt and alone somewhere in the hospital.

The door was locked and they got down the step together. Snow was already coating them. And the cool air made it very hard to breath. My God, this weather was awful.

…

Finally arrived at the hospital, both Elizabeth and Peter were shivering like leaves from the extreme cold. It took them nearly an hour to get here and just like the doctor told them, it was a hell out there. However, it was very warm inside the hospital. Snow was already melting from their jackets when they walked further; leaving a wet trail behind them.

But there wasn't time to think about anything of that, and Peter walked straight to the reception desk. With flashing his badge he got the floor and room number where he and Elle could find Neal.

Soon Peter found out from the same doctor that Neal was already getting prepared for surgery.

"I'm very certain that a few of his nerves are damaged in the process. And that's something we can't fix. Also one major artery was hit by the bone. Mr. Caffrey had lost a few pints but we manage to stabilize him this long. You can still see him before the surgery starts if you like, but it has to be very quick. He needs this surgery."

El nodded while grabbing into Peter's arm.

"We would like that, Doctor."

The doctor pointed the way to a small darkened room where Neal was waiting for a surgeon who still wasn't available. In the meantime Neal was sleeping deeply and wasn't even aware that he had visitors to wish him luck.

El eyed the big crimson dot under a thick layer of bandages. He was stripped down to only a gown that didn't even cover everything. His chest was still visible. But a baby blue sheet was covering the rest of him. If Neal had been awake he would scream ashamed of how near he came to naked affront of his wife. El didn't even care about the chest. She only had eyes for the scratches and bruises around the side of his face. It where all cuts from shattered glass. His hands were injured as well, they both were bandaged tight. But the scariest thing of all was the leg. They made a cast from cardboard and ducktape to hold everything together while they waited for an available room and a capable surgeon who could fix this mess up, properly. The nice doctor already said it was a nasty fracture. And all of his words finally started to sink in.

He grabbed a bandaged limb hand and squeezed it carefully. He didn't know what to say when Neal was kind of reacting to his touch. But he didn't had a change to reply because a nurse came in with a chard.

"There is a room available for mister Caffrey. The Surgeon is coming to get him as soon as he can." El nodded briefly. Then watched her husband smile while bending forward, over the sleeping young man. As careful he could be, he placed a tiny kiss on Neal's forehead, like a father would do by his own child.

"Good luck, buddy. We will be here."

* * *

AN: I had this chapter hidden in my files, for one whole year. (Well, obviously I made it a bit different, because of the spoilers form this season 5. Sorry guys!) and translated it in English. This is the first chapter. One other will come very soon! Please read it and let me know if it is okay enough to keep it up here.

X

Josie


	2. Good times

"That was sweet back there, Peter. I never thought you had it in you," Elizabeth lays her head against his shoulder as they sat together in the hallway. Her hand was stroking Peter's arm in small slow movements. They made the best of it while waiting. Two hours of sitting down in plastic chairs was not that bad, since they had each other. Peter finally reply to what Elizabeth said.

"I didn't know, either." He pulled his wife closer. "It just happened. But let's just hope Neal don't find out, okay? Let's keep it between us." El looked up at her husband with a smirk.

"Oh Hon. Don't feel shy about it. You did not just kiss a guy. You acted like a parent. Don't go homophobic on me." Her hand grasped his arm tight, causing Peter to look at her with a confused look on his face.

"No, I'm not homophobic, Elle. You know that. My brother is…" But seeing his wife wink at him in such a loving way, he knew she was just messing with him. "Ha. Ha," Peter mumbled in a low voice while stroking El's arm.

It was finally getting quiet and peaceful down this hall. The snowstorm had reached the top and no other major accidents were been reported. The Brooklyn Bridge, though, the place where Neal got involved with a car crash, was still somewhere you don't want to be right now. They remembered to call Mozzie when a nurse walked by, telling that Neal was still doing fine during the operation. To their surprise, Mozzie was already on top of it. Somehow Mozzie had managed to tap in on a police radio and heard about a surviving man that suited Neal descriptions.

'_I didn't want to believe it so I let it pass my inner thoughts. And what was I thinking? Of course I was right! Oh man… Neal's leg is broken in half... that could be the end of his career. All this, because he wanted to come clean on you guys. I was trying to stop him, saying that this wasn't the best time for it… but you know how he is. Stubborn as hell. And now look what happened.'_

Mozzie's words were stabbing like knives. And it was hard to explain, but a feeling of wonder caught their mind. What was Neal going to tell?

That was one of the things that kept Peter busy during their long wait.

Both were staring up at the poor decorated Christmas tree affront of them, stocked at the corner; until El straightened her back, while untangling herself from Peter's grip.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked a bit dazed. Her head was nodding to the opening doors of the surgical area. A very tired looking surgeon came to his sight. "Family of Neal Caffrey?" the man called out. Elizabeth immediately jumped up on her feet and nodded eagerly.

"We are about the closes thing, Doctor," she said, instinctively knowing that Peter would follow her.

"Okay than, first of all, Hi, I am Doctor Ewald Van Well. I just fixed your friends leg." The smile made them feel a little less anxious about the news what was coming.

"That's already great news, Dr. Van Well," Elizabeth said relieved about that part.

"I must say, this was a hard operation though. I had a hard time controlling the bleeding, but Mr. Caffrey did a great job as well. The fleshy area around the femur bone is a very delicate place. A lot of veins and muscles are attached together. And with breaking one of the most important bone of the human skeleton structure things are very complicated. Some of his tissue got damaged by the extreme pressure from the accident. Femurs usually don't break that easily. Mr. Caffrey's fracture, however indicated that he must've turned his body away from where the truck was about to hit the front side. His muscles were strained when he got hit and that caused the ripped artery. That's why the operation lasted a bit longer than I suspected. But that is not important. What does, is that everything went fine and Mr. Caffrey would be okay about a month or two."

El felt a shiver running up to her spine by all of this. The doctor must've seen the fear and turned himself towards the FBI agent.

"Bones need to heal and with younger people these fractures can take four weeks minimum. But in Caffrey's case I would suggest to hold him off his feet for two, maybe 3 months, if everything turns out fine. Depends on how long the patient stays off his feet during his first weeks." Peter grunted at that. Because he knew this would be a problem.

"How did you fix it? With pins, or plates? My cousin has a new hip. Is it something like that? I know that took him six weeks before she was able to take the stairs," Elizabeth asked; her voice was a bit more stable again.

"Well, Misses Burke, with a hip transplant they place surgical plates around the bone structure. And secure it with screws and pins inside the leg and the hip should be fine quickly. Luckily, with a femur repairing, I only have to drill one single surgical pin inside the bone itself and screw it to both ends of the fracture. The pain would be less, while the body gets used to the readjustments. But with the amounts of pressure the bone needs to take in order to hold up the whole bodyweight, this fracture needs to be fully healed to make a stroll. Fortunately, Mr. Caffrey is in a pretty healthy condition. And this would help a lot."

"What about his head? They said Neal might have developed a concussion?" Peter asked; his face paling in progress.

"He did, we are certain of that. The doctor may have told you this, already, but Mr. Caffrey had a hard time remembering his name and birthdate. He sped a few names before he actually got it right." Somehow Peter caught himself chuckling.

"Oh right. I think can explain that one, Doctor. Neal Caffrey is a well-known con artist, under my supervision during his probation as an FBI-consultant in the White Collar division. During his career, and I use that term loosely, he has taken on a few names." The surgeon was quite surprised at this. His confusion was obvious.

"He is a criminal?" he asked unsure. Because Elizabeth wasn't happy at how this conversation went she took the word.

"No, Doctor. He _was_ a criminal. Thanks to my husband Neal has changed. Please, do go on. What about the nerve damage where Dr. Baldwin was worrying about earlier?" The surgeon blinked at her; getting the point that these two people were very worried and pleading for news. And certainly not in the mood for answering his questions.

"Yes, well of course, about that. I might have found some nerve damage. During the operation we test the reflexes occasionally, to see if we are hitting the wrong places. We came across some areas that might be causing some trouble for Mr. Caffrey. He might be experiencing loss of feeling around the scar tissue. The broken leg would be feeling heavier once he is on his feet again, but this is all manageable and he would be fine after debilitation therapy. What does concern me, though, is the lack of responds we got from a small area on the outside of his foot. That could mean that he wouldn't be in perfect balance without a special made insole. This can't be fixed. He had to learn to live with that. Mr. Caffrey was lucky that he survived this crash, Mrs. Burke. Be sure he knows that when they tell him this news."

The surgeon smiled at them and nodded to the doors. "I have to go back to work now; one more patient to go. If you have some more questions, please don't hesitate to contact me or Neal's doctor. As for Mr. Caffrey, he would be in his room to sleep it off about a minute or two, after the nurses are done stitching." Bothe Burkes nodded their thanks and gave him a strong handshake before he left.

And as soon as the doctor was out of eye sight, Peter looked up at his wife. Both were sharing the same faces. The words that the doctor had said suck in slowly.

"Two moths is a long time, El. I don't even know if his insurance can cover this at all. But that's not important right? Hon… How long you'd think Neal should be in here?"

Peter felt a bit sick with the idea of the metal pin and loss of feeling made him shiver. El tried to get herself together and then guided Peter back towards the plastic chair.

"Sit down, Hon. Or you'll pass out." Peter did what he has been told.

"My God, El. I can't think straight. What do we do now?"

"Oh I don't know… Let's stop worry about the insurance first, shall we? We need to focus on the main problems here, hon. Neal got involved with a terrible car accident because he wanted to come to us. Maybe we pushed him too hard, with all those messages. Maybe he didn't listen to his own voice because he cares too much about what _we_ want."

Peter didn't agree.

"No Elle. It's not our fault. Don't blame this on us. Mozz told you over the phone that he wanted to come clean on something, right?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"Right," she agreed.

"What that something might be, _that_ is the main problem. He wasn't thinking straight. The text messages from us, and the calls, may have helped him to do this now, but… Neal is a grown man. However… A grown man with no impulse control, at all. If he wants to do something, he does it without thinking about it."

"I know… poor Neal. Trying to get away from the truck before he crash… I can't image hoe he must've felt back then."

The worrisome feelings, the fear and the love for this young injured man flew over them. It was their version of a hitting truck.

"He would be fine. The surgeon told so." Her hand was now stroking Peter's pale face. "Even if this is going to take a while…" Then Peter realized something else.

"Got that right. Hon! He isn't going to be able to climb up the three long stairs to his apartment." Elle started thinking about it.

"He can stay with us. We can place a bed in the living room. He needs our help. We will figure something out, Peter."

Elizabeth was right. These were all problems that could be solved easily.

"Yeah… You're right. Let's just focus on Neal for now. We will talk about it later."

Peter placed a kiss on Elizabeth's cheek; letting her know he loved her not because she was always so smart. But also because she could always put her words and thoughts into the right moments. They hooked into each other.

A bed was rolled out of the surgical unit and they spotted the glimpse of Neal's pale face. A group of four was needed to install the bed back. A few bags of yellow and white fluids where hanged to the IV pole. Peter and Elle had followed them anxiously. One of the male nurses said that Neal would be awake in about an hour. They could sit with him and moister his lips with ice chips every now or then until he was ready to drink. Elizabeth took on this job easily. Peter just sat there, thinking about his adventures with Neal in the past few years…

This was going to be a long Christmas night.

* * *

During the night a nurse came in to check up on his vitals and changed his medicine. It was a different one. each time. But they all had a flashlight, shinning up at the sleeping patient. With a low whispering voice Peter occasionally heard the same comments about 'not in a holiday spirit at all' and 'how weird it was that Neal still hasn't woke up'. Peter liked the idea off Neal just being a lazy ass; something the funny nurse said around 4AM. He'd hold on to that thought as long as he could; trying hard for not getting worried.

The dark and quiet hours passed. Peter woke up when he heard a card rattling in the hallway. Did he really fall asleep in this odd position? With the back of his head against the wall and his legs onto the desk of the small kitchen table?

Looking at his watch he noticed how early it was. 6:07AM. Peter found his wife asleep in her armchair and didn't want to bother her. So he poured himself a cup of water from Neal's untouched water pot. But noticing how Neal's lips were all dried over and the ice chips already melted, Peter heaved a sigh. He looked around, to be sure nobody was watching, he dipped his finger in it to the cup and moister Neal's lips, very careful. Neal never moved at all and when he was sure it was enough he took in the awful sight of Neal's pale and battered face. He sure looked like he had the roughest night of his life; with all those tiny little cut marks and bruising's around his right eye. Neal looked so fragile. His hair was all messed up and his brown curls hung down heavily on him. It framed his face. He looked younger somehow. His whole body seemed to have shrunken down to a smaller version of the famous art thief. Then Peter saw the leg, again; hanging limb in some sort of strap. It was to down the swelling, he knew. And how peaceful he might look now something worries Peter. Neal still hasn't moved one damn inch, yet.

Peter felt the urge to grab his hand again. He felt a bit cold and Peter rubbed it warm between his. That did give him a reaction. He flinched. Finally.

"Hhhhuuuuuhhhh," Neal moaned hoarsely; totally not amused by waking up to a major headache.

"Neal?" Peter asked in awe. "Hey… Neal?" Peter stopped rubbing and squeezed in his arm for some support.

"Uhhhhhhuuuhhhhm,"Neal moaned again. Now in combination with a miserable frown. "Ooooohhh…God…"

This had awoken Elizabeth and shot up from her armchair, feeling guilty that she left him there to dry… so or speak.

"Neal? Sweetie… -Hon, is he waking up?" she asked a bit dazzled by sleep.

"I think he is. He is having a hard time, though. Should we push the bottom?"

"Mmmy head… hhhuuuhhhhmmm…" Neal wailed unhappy. One hand flopped up but never reached his eyes. He was still so weak. They had never seen him this vulnerable. And the way he totally ignored them was a bit odd.

"Yeah, I think we do. I'll do it," Elle offered. Meanwhile one baby blue eye popped open to Peter but immediately closed shut again.

"Hey, you are making progress. Come on buddy… wake up…" Peter cheered gladly. Neal startled at the loud voice and flinched miserably.

"P'r? wha…Owww… Mmmmy hhhheeeaaaad… h-hurts…" Neal slurred. He sounded so immature that Peter had to chuckle.

"Yeah… likewise. It took you long enough."

"Bllaaaa blaaaa… stop it…"

Neal turned his head away from him. But it was all he could do, to block himself from Peter's annoying voice. Turning over on the matrass, like he really wanted to do, couldn't be done with a uphold leg and heavy limbs.

* * *

Neal felt like he weighted a ton. It was like all of his organs were replaced by stones. But that doesn't make sense. Why did he feel his heart thumping in is head like an angry mom; trying to get into your room? Something was on top of him, for sure. It has to be.

"Fsstoooopppff…. Please…" he pleaded to Peter's voice. Does he even know how bad he felt right now?"

"Neal. Cut it out. Relax, while the nurse is checking you out," Peter said sternly as one hand landed on his chest. It was a warm small hand. But that hand wasn't nice to him, either. Suddenly his eye was forced open. A bright light was blinding him, sending him way too many signals to hide and run.

"Mr. Caffrey. Please. I'm sorry for you. But I have to do this. It will be done in a second," a female said.

Neal doesn't understand.

"What? You h-have to blind me? Pe'r… Wwwhat did I do?"

Another hand was back. This time on his right cheek. "Neal?" El's voice dropped in.

"We're here, sweetie. You are in the hospital. You had an accident yesterday evening."

"Hhhuuhuuhhh…"

_Tired…_

_So tired…_

_Feeling sick now!_

"Neal?... Hey…. Neal?"

His stomach rolled.

* * *

Sometime must've been passed, because suddenly Neal felt like he was sitting upright, staring up at his two visitors.

Elizabeth and Peter looked at him, very questionably. Boy, did they look tired as well! Peter had stubbles all over his chin. El's mascara was drooped down and all smutched under her eyes, like she had cried. Both their mouths were moving now and then. So the ringing noises must've been them…

The world around him tilted and blurred and Neal wasn't able to focus on them for long. But Peter did look pissed now!

"S-sorry?" Neal blurred out. Speaking out loud felt odd. He realized that he didn't do that for a while. This must be the reason both Burkes blinked surprised.

"Finally," El whispered.

"… Like we said… You look a bit better now that the morphine is finally wearing off…"Peter was talking to him. His voice was now a bit less ringy and his face more smiley.

_Morphine?_

"More water, Neal?" El jumped in before Neal could work his throat again. She was holding a cup for him.

_Was he dreaming? It didn't feel real. He just had taken a huge jump to a different time_. Meanwhile Elizabeth's outstretching arm was getting tired. "Fine, I'll put it onto you tray. Just let me know you want so more, sweetie." El sounded all wrong. She never acted this nervous around him.

"W-wait..." he managed to get out of his sore throat. "W-where am I?" Peter looked worried as well. Also a bit confused.

"Neal. It's okay, buddy. You had some weird reaction to the drugs they gave you earlier. That's why we didn't leave you, yet." Peter smiled and put his large hand on his ankle. "Do you remember that?" he asked again.

Neal really did want to, but he couldn't. His head… was so… empty. All he could think about where about the things he saw around them. Everything else didn't exist…

He didn't dare to speak. He might say something funny.

"You have been here in the hospital for one whole day. It's Christmas 1st. about 9PM. You were in and out of consciousness after getting very ill," Elizabeth helped him. The words however didn't make sense, but the main message was getting through.

"A hospital?" he blurred. His eyes wandered through the room around him. Finally noticing the strapped leg Neal blinked confused.

"W-what is all of this? Did I break something?"

Somehow it made the Burkes very happy with it because they both said "yes," in a happy way.

"Glad you finally starting to come around, buddy. You did break your leg. But the nurses said the swelling is already coming down."

Neal felt some sort of victory within himself and started to laugh out loud. Peter and El looked at him with the weirdest look ever.

"I knew it had to be something bad," he slurred a bit loopy. His head fell back on his pillow.

It was a warm one.

"I never ever ever E-ver lose my mind…. Unless it is something bad."

Peter was whispering something to Elizabeth now. And Neal didn't notice he was falling asleep until they asked him to stay awake with them for a while.

"You need to eat, Neal. Drinking water isn't enough to get back on your feet." Neal tried to open his eyes again. Elle was now standing at the side of his bed with a bowl of steaming water and a spoon.

"Instant soup. I know it's bad. It smells bad. But at least it is something you can eat." Without thinking about it he opened up his mouth and a spoon full was dropped down to his throat. It was hot! Neal coughed against the bad taste and shot a warning look at her, without wanting her to know he didn't like it.

It was difficult to understand what was happening. But somehow he let her do the spooning, even if he didn't want to eat. It was so nasty! He was done with it by the time the bowl was half empty. Still not enough for a grown man, but it was at least something.

* * *

Peter watched her wife feed the former conman, like it was the most common thing in the world. Somehow this made him feel warm inside. Neal was being a good kid too, with the soup; until his stomach suddenly rolled. He spit out what was just spooned in his mouth and rolled his fuzzy head to the other side of the pillow.

With the soup still dripping from his chin Neal wanted to sleep in. It made Elizabeth laugh somehow and cleaned up his face.

"One day I will remember this and laugh about it, Neal. Mark my words." Neal only grunted annoyed and already closed his eyes.

* * *

At night, Neal woke up again. With feeling the urge to scream out of pain. His leg! His freaking leg hurt! He opened his eyes and almost jolted up from the surprise to see a man bending over him with a yellow bag in his hand. The room was darkened but one little light was shining upon his belly.

"Sorry to wake you again, Mr. Caffrey. Just cleaned the bandages on the leg. Swelling is downed. Almost done with the catheter." Neal blinked once. Twice…

"Catheter? Why the hell do I need a ca-, … Is that my… You holding my pie?" Neal was not amused. Oh no. Not one bit. He grabbed the man's pols.

"Let go of it. Make your own."

"Mr. Caffrey. Would you relax? It's not that I want to have it. I just need to give you a clean bag." Neal was getting a bit more on top of things, now. His eyes grew big out of embarrassment. But the damage was already done.

"I-I am sorry. Sir... Go ahead… I-I was just dreaming…" The male nurse shrugged.

"Oh no problem, buddy. Happens all the time. You're lucky number seventeen this night." As the nurse did his job, Neal watched him write something down. Despite his exhaustion he desperately wanted to know what he was writing.

"Am I… good?" Neal asked tiredly. His head fell back on the warm pillow.

"Yeah, you are alright. The fluids made you pie a lot. But that was the point. We needed to flush the medicine out of your system. And I think it's done now. You're looking sharp. Talking straight. So yeah."

"Great," Neal mumbled. "And my friends?" he remembered them sitting with him earlier.

"They are at home; resting. They probably figured you were okay enough without them for a few hours." Neal nodded.

"They said they were here the whole time." His voice sounded so weak.

"Yeah. You got some great friends. And a nice present as well." The male nurse pointed at his arm. Neal looked at it with mixed feelings. "I am cuffed to my bed?"

"Probably thought you would bail out on us."

Then, the lamp was out. And the man left him after wishing him a merry Christmas.

Grunting his annoyance about the handcuffs Neal dropped his head again.

Peter will hear about this!

As soon as he wakes up…

* * *

**_AN: Thanks for all the sweet reviews. I wasn't planning on reactions since the beginning of this story was kind of boring to me. There will be one more chapter before the real Christmas bells are ringing. See yah!_**

**_X_**

**_Josie_**


	3. the truth is never easy

"You were stupid."

The loudness of this particular voice definitely woke him up. He opened his eyes too quickly; not prepared for the brightness that should come. It was a sunny morning. It blinded him immediately, despite his urge to look up on the screaming man. He wasn't sure who it was, but he sure sounded angry. Neal moaned in a reflex. He couldn't control his voice when he was bathing in discomfort.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. Take your time. It's not that I waited a whole hour."

"What?" he asked groggily. Slowly things got a bit clearer.

"Oh, you're listening? Well… I said: You were stupid. Taking off with a snowstorm on your back? Do you even understand how lucky you've been? I saw the cab."

Neal recognized the voice…

"Mozz?" Neal asked again. In a slow motion he tried to sit up from his bed. Immediately a sick stinging pain followed. It came from every angle of his body; but his leg in particular. Oh yes, that was the source of all the pain!

"Yes, Neal. I am here. You slept like the dead. You're doctor came to check up on you twice during the time I was sitting here… everyone thinks you're a lazy ass." Mozzie was saying all this crap in order to get Neal angry enough to rise. But Neal kept calm. And somehow Neal must've noticed the soft tone within his voice.

Without watching Neal started aiming for the bed-buttons to get himself into a sitting position; the only option to move without causing too much pain.

"I feel old…"Neal murmured as his bed started lifting his head.

"That would be the hangover from the drugs you got. But don't worry. You're off from any medication, now. No painkillers… nothing." Neal grunted.

"I noticed…"

He felt too much. Too much of everything.

"I want to die…" Neal wailed at the bald guy. "Now please," he knew Mozzie wouldn't take him serious.

_Wait a minute… Mozzie? Here? Inside the hospital?_ Neal's eyes popped open. He saw the little guy standing awkwardly at his bedside, wobbling on his feet like if he was going to run away every minute now. Mozzie's normal state if he was in environments like this.

"Mozz… Coming to see me? I-I am honored" He hated it when his voice sounded so weak. At least the one good thing about it was that it earned him some sympathy. The little guy's shoulders slumped as he heaved a sigh. His facial expression softened.

"Of course I am, Neal. I would never let you down like this. I mean… look at you. You're a train wreck."

"Gee, thanks." Neal shot him a look. Mozzie held up his hands as a sign of surrender.

"I wasn't going to say it. But you do. And that look doesn't suit you, Neal."

With a heavy sigh Neal rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to readjust himself in a more comfortable position on the matrass. His first mistake.

The miniscule tug on his resent operated leg was enough to cause a lot of pain.

"They did warn me in case you woke up screaming, to push the button. They wanted you to be sober for the test. I don't know if they already did something to you and what… but. Some unreadable stuff is written on your chard. Are they doing experiences on you, Neal?"

Neal groaned at that.

"You're reading on my chard now, Mozz?" Mozzie started to act uncomfortable with Neal squirming from the pain.

"Well… I always wanted to be a doctor. Just like my parents."

"Yeah right. You. A doctor. In a hospital with sick people. And by the way… You don't know your parents," Neal growled mean; and immediately regretted it. He bit his lip when he saw Mozzie flinch.

"Maybe I should push the bottom now. You're too pained to make sense."

"Sorry, Mozz. Just tell me what you wanted to say. I will stop bullying you."

"Well… you know? Sometimes, with the holiday season I think about them. How would they be like? A-and… I like to think them as doctors once in a while. Look, Neal. There is nothing wrong with a little bender to the reality sometimes. A man can dream. Be honest. Would you rather stay here in your bed if you had the chance to leave this reality?" Neal snorted, while stroking his leg.

"Honestly, Mozz: I would give a toe for something that could numb the pain, right now."

There was a short silence between them. It gave Neal time to ride it out. Then Mozzie pointed at his arm.

"Nice jewelry. Suit gave it to you?" the little guy asked a bit too cheery. The reminder made Neal roll his eyes. His cuffed arm got as far up as it could in order to look at it.

"Yeah, like I was going to run out on him." He didn't sound happy.

Mozz's face turned serious.

"Suit is smart. It is a good opportunity, to leave without the anklet on. This might be your only change for a long time, Neal. All I'm saying… If you want this… we can arrange something." Neal chuckled. He wasn't even tempted, but once his eyes wandered up to his friend Neal started to frown.

"You were serious."

"I am. I always am… mostly." Mozzie shrugged and got to the window to gaze up on the white streets of Brooklyn. "All I am saying is that it can be arranged. If you want to." Neal frowned at this. He actually got a bit tempted now.

"Mozz, don't do this to me. I'm weak and defenseless; as much as I hate to admit it. Decisions like this need to be made with a clear head." Mozzie chuckled.

"Not always. Our greatest plans were always made over a good glass of wine."

"Were do I go then, Mozz? It's not that I can walk this off like that bullet wound last year. I need a little bit more than a pile of painkillers, Mozz. With a fracture like this I will need some proper care. Besides… you know why…"

"The Burkes." Mozzie knew all about it. And it was not only the Burkes. It was his life here in New York. The apartment. June. Even Jones and Dianna. Everything.

"I can't leave and you know that. Peter and Elizabeth were here all day, since Christmas Eve, Mozz. I even got a get-well-card from Hughes."

Mozzie's shoulders slumped after looking at the bulletin above Neal's bed. When his eyes wandered to Neal's sad face it was even harder to not feel the same like Neal did. There was a profound bond between the Burkes and Neal. Peter got in jail because of him. Because Neal wanted to believe James was a good man. Mozzie himself had pushed Neal to meet with him again. If only he didn't, think weren't so complicated now.

Neal was going to tell the Burkes about Hagen. About everything. The young conman didn't know why he couldn't wait any longer. But it just wanted the secret out. All the bad things he did for that evil man. It was all for Peter and Elizabeth. Mozzie didn't think this was the greatest move, especially on Christmas. But Neal was very determined.

And look what it did to Neal… He was so pale, weak and in too much pain.

"I know that… Neal," Mozzie finally answered. "It would be heartless to leave them, now. It will make things a lot worse."

Neal nodded. Sweat was glistering on his face by now. After a long silence and a lot of blinking against the urge to cry Neal started to wiggle his cuffed arm and suddenly he was able to slip out of the cuff. Mozzie looked surprised.

"What are you doing?" Neal shrugged with a smile.

"I won't leave them. But cuffing me to the bed while I was insanely stoned… That's a bit heartless too."

Mozzie laughed softly. Neal was a funny guy. A sickly pale looking one for that matter. But a funny one, too. Another silence followed. Then, Mozzie's hands fell on Neal's. Not for long. But it was a slight pat.

"I'm glad you're still mostly okay."

"Thanks, Mozz. I am glad too. Merry Christmas by the way."

"Yeah... same to you, mon frère."

…

On the second day of Christmas a nurse came in with a tray. Neal was watching Edward Sissorhands on his own while stroking his leg.

"Good afternoon Mr. Caffrey." Her eyes were locked on Neal's pained face.

"Still hurts a lot?" the nurse asked observingly. Meanwhile she placed the tray onto his bedside table. Neal pulled out the earplugs while smiling at the polite women.

"A little bit. What's for lunch?" Neal asked, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, right. Well it's something we do for everyone who's stuck here on Christmas. Don't expect much. It still tastes like rubber." She smiled again.

Slightly confused Neal looked at the steaming plate, finding out that the smell made him hungry but nauseous, at the same time. Struggling to find his smile again, he had to hold his breath in order to not barf in front of her. He felt like this for some time this day. His doctor said this was the aftereffect of the concussion; besides his monster headache. .

"Yeah, I saw that. You don't feel like eating, right?" The nurse put the plate away but got back with a small device.

"I have to check your sugar level. Please hold one finger up to me." Neal frowned but did what he has been told.

"Why?" Neal had to ask. He had never done this test, before.

"You have lost a lot of blood during the accident and since you're in no mood to eat something proper than the soup yesterday, I have to check up on your sugar level every once and a while. We do this regularly. But most of the time you were asleep. And 'why', you asked. Well… because you look very pale to me; paler than yesterday."

Neal felt a slight pinch and tried not the blink at the drop of blood. The nurse tipped the tiny drop of blood onto a little strip and put it in the device. A beep sounded.

"Just what I thought. Your sugar level is way too low. You need to eat something."

Neal's hand got back to his leg and heaved a sigh. He knew he wasn't feeling like himself but it was just that he felt so sick with the idea of eating. "I'm not really hungry."

"Listen, Sir. With all though respect, you're not going to be better if you don't take care of your body. I know you are feeling weak and sleepy. And with a concussion the headaches only gets worse if you're not eating something."

"I know, nurse. But it's just that… My stomach is a bit upset because of the constant pain I feel in my right leg. I feel like crap all day, and everyone refuses to give me something that could numb the pain, besides the over the counter painkillers. They are not strong enough anymore." It was the truth, for once.

"I know… you have been very sick from the anesthetics and morphine. We were maybe too careful with you. But your doctor said that if the pain gets worse to the scale from seven to ten, you can get some Vicodin. 'After' you have something in your stomach. And that's no joke."

"Oh it's definitely above a seven, nurse." Neal smiled between gritted teeth. "But I can't promise my stomach can hold something down at this point." It had earned him some sympathy. The nurse pulled out a keycard and walked to the medicine cabinet. It took her a while before she came back to Neal and handed him a small cup with one white pill. And a dry bisque to eat. Neal took the bisque and started to nibble on it. As soon as it was eaten he took the pill.

"Down it with this," she said while pouring him a cup with fresh water. Neal took it gratefully.

After a few seconds Neal laid his head back on the pillow. His eyes were watery. Very pleased by her job the nurse nodded her approval. She was the only nurse who got Neal to eat something. But the patient wasn't happy about it. She could hear Neal moan softly.

"Nurse…" the patient started.

"Yes, Mr. Caffrey?"

"Can I ask you something, nurse?" he asked weakly. His face got a bit paler, if that was even possible. His hand grasped the blanket tightly.

"Yes, you can," she knew where this was going. She had seen it thousands of times in her short career as nurse.

"If you see a bucket around somewhere… can you toss it to me?"

…

The rest of the day Neal had spent his time bravely watching lame old Christmas movies, while getting brutally interrupted every five minutes for a check-up or other medical stuff. It was about 5 'o clock when Neal got tired of doing nothing and started to read some of his magazines. The Vicodin took the edge of his pain but also gave him a hard time focusing on the letters so he decided to only look at the pictures.

At some point he must've fallen asleep because something woke him up. He felt a firm tuck on his arm. Somebody was cuffing him down again. With a jolt Neal tried to free himself from the grip. It was just his automatic reflex, even with his eyes still closed. And his mind not fully there.

"Wow, take it easy, Neal. It's just us," Neal heard. It was Peter of course. Who else could it be?

Us?

Neal abruptly opened his eyes and suddenly met two sharp brown orbs.

"P-Peter? What are you doing? You're cuffing me, again?"

If it was a cartoon you would definitely see some bubbles popping above Neal's head.

"It's just for one more night, buddy. I kind of hoped you didn't notice it this time. And just so you know. It's either this, or a marshal at the door."

It took him some time to wake up fully and when he did Elizabeth also came into the line of sight.

"Sweetie, we just heard the great news." Elizabeth smiled happily. "You can come with us tomorrow. The swelling is gone. No infections. How's that sounding?"

Neal was able to go home with them, tomorrow?

"T-that is… unexpectedly soon… I love it," Neal blurred out. But his mood changed when something came to mind. It was that something who had gotten him into the hospital at the first place.

"Oh right… I wanted to tell you, Peter… something… like very much," Neal tried. He heard himself struggle with words but he just hoped it got better when he got on with it. Meanwhile, Elizabeth and Peter were shooting him weird looks. Despite the fact Peter really looked like he wanted to know what he was about to say, he said "Neal. Not now, buddy. You can tell this when you are sober." His hand patted Neal's arm.

Neal didn't listen.

"I did all this…"Neal held his finger in the sky and circled around to point at everything. "All of it… I did it for you, Peter." It was probably not the greatest start of how this conversation should have going. And all things aside… why did his throat hurt so much? He sounded like a running blender.

"Neal, really. Say no more. It wouldn't be right for me to have you go to prison for the things I am going to hear. We do this after you're a bit better."

Neal blinked. He already made too many mistakes by finding his words. His mind was playing jokes on him.

"We'll do this later. Alright?" Peter asked again. This time with a hand on his head and a smile that looked so warm. Neal smiled back; then nodded.

"Later 'sgood. Tooo hard to speak anyway." His eyes started to droop and El chuckled.

"That's because of all the lovely songs you were singing to us, earlier. But don't worry. We won't talk about this to anyone." She lovingly stroked his cuffed arm while looking up at two pinking cheeks.

…

Three nights in a hospital were apparently enough to see that the operation was a success, and Neal was going to be okay. However, on the day he was allowed to go home, they casted Neal's leg with the larges cast ever. Plastered from hip to toe. On top of this, they had a special plastic brace made that would hold his leg straight and secure for the first four weeks. It wasn't very comfortable en certainly not pretty. Besides, he had no pants that could fit over it. So he had to buy him one huge sweatpants. His leg was very heavy and in no circumstances any support if he wanted to hop to anywhere.

So, stairs wasn't an option. And with this Neal knew that he needed help to get through every day. There was no other way than to stay with the Burkes.

The ambulance brought him safely over to their house. The snow was melting but still dangerously slippery. And not only because of that; they helped Neal and the Burkes out. Getting Neal up their doorstep was another problem. Neal couldn't walk with a heavy cast like this. And he wasn't allowed either. So they carried them inside with a stretcher and put him right in to his freshly made bed, in the guest room. It was the only option because it was the closest to the bathroom.

The ride wasn't that great of an experience for Neal. But luckily they had given him something to make him feel nicely numb and happy with it.

As soon as everything was installed Neal fell asleep for a long time. In the afternoon, when Elizabeth just started to do the laundry, she heard a yawn coming from Neal's room, immediately knowing that Neal probably needed something, she quickly washed her hands and hurried to his bed. She knocked on the door and clicked on his light. She saw the young man dazedly stare upon her with the saddest look he'd ever made.

"Neal? Hey, sweetie. You do you feel?" Elizabeth asked as she gently lowered herself onto the foot of the bed. Neal looked so confused to see her, it almost hurt.

"Elizabeth? Hi. W-what is this place?" He started to look around and noticed the blue walls he vaguely recognized. Some fear in his eyes finally faded.

"In our guestroom, sweetie. We just got you out of the hospital. Don't worry; they have given you something before you got out of that place. You probably don't even remember the ride."

"Why?" he then asked. El frowned. "Why did they give me something?" Neal repeated with suspicion. El wasn't going to smile at him now. Oh no. So she bit on the insides of her cheeks and nodded at his propped up leg. Neal followed her gaze.

With the frustrating reminder of his huge cast Neal grunted very miserably.

"Never mind." His head fell back on his pillow.

Elizabeth couldn't hold this chuckle; he was just being such a cute teenager right now.

"Don't worry, Neal. You have been nice and quiet the whole time. You didn't say or sing something weird yet. You were sleeping deeply this whole time."

That was a relief. Neal took his time to take in his surroundings. He saw the TV onto the table. That was new. Last time he had been sleeping over, from the flu, there wasn't one. That only could mean one thing.

"Am I going to stay here for the next 4 weeks?" Neal wailed. And when he noticed himself wailing, he blinked. "That's… very..." Neal couldn't find the right word for it. So Elizabeth helped him with a tern gaze upon his pale and sleepy face.

"Necessary. You can't be on your own with this leg. You would need someone 24/7. And with June out of town, and Mozzie being little and mostly drinking, you need someone strong enough to hold your up with that new weight." Neal grunted. The leg was, in fact, feeling heavy; even when he was lying down.

"Where is Peter?" he asked, still a bit druggy but at least a bit more in his right mind.

But still… one eye wasn't able to open up fully, yet. The droopiness wasn't going away. Oh no.

"At work. He had to arrange something with Hughes. Jones and Dianna called me. They wanted to come and visit you. But I told them to wait until you were a bit more alert and rested." She saw the young man heave a sigh.

"Thank you, Elizabeth."

There was a long silence. Neal was starting to feel tired again but didn't want to admit it.

"If he is back… I wanna say… something about coins and Hagen… and…"

Then the other eye drooped shut. At this Elizabeth froze. She knew that Peter suspected Neal for stealing the coins, a while back. Was this a confession? What did he do?

"Neal?" Neal didn't answer with words. He just flinched a bit. But he wasn't able to wake up anymore, with the drugs still in his system.

"Neal? Are you going back to sleep already?" Elle sounded disappointing.

Neal didn't want to sleep and shook his head slowly. But his body had other plans. Within seconds Neal fell asleep again.

For a moment Elizabeth had felt some anger about Neal. She knew how much of the time Peter had spent to reform Neal. To make him right. Teach him what was the good way, and which one were the bad. And now Neal did have done something bad.

But… one look at his leg. One single glance on that sweet soft face, making Neal looks way too young for his age. It was hard to be mad at him. Neal was a good man. He probably did his things for a good reason. Elle draped his blanket back over his shoulders and left him there to sleep the rest of the drugs off.

"Sleep it off. I will make you something when you're ready, sweetie."

And then she left him.

…

When Peter came back that day and kissed his wife before even getting out of his wet jacket, Elizabeth stopped him.

"Hon? Who is Hagen?"

Peter looked shocked.

"What?"

Elle nodded to the stairs. That was enough for Peter to know what was going on. He grumbled and dropped his stuff next to his boots and hurried upstairs. "Hon, be nice. He is not himself yet," Elle tried. She regretted her approach on this already.

Peter was on the last foot of the stairs when his heart jumped. Neal's guest room door was opened and the room was dark. He could even hear him breathe heavily, there. The shoes Neal wore when he was on his way down here, and go hit by a truck, stood in the hallway. Next to a laundry bag full of dirty clothes they had stripped him from. The pants was been cut to pieces and stained with an ugly crimson spot. Peter had seen it. His dark blue tie was bloodstained as well. The white undershirt, that blazer and nice fitted jacket... all of it… It was all gone and ruined.

Neal was lucky to be alive. Peter remembered the conversation over the phone, just a few days back. Poor Neal…

His shoulders slumped. With this in his thoughts, almost sure that Elle had left the shoes and bag there for this reason; Peter took the last steps toward Neal, very careful. With a soft knock Peter entered the room. There was no recollection of him being there, coming from the sleeping form. So Peter turned on the light. Neal was sleeping with his head slightly dropped to the left. The rest of his battered form was forced to be straight on the back. His leg was propped up and one hand was firmly clamping onto the blanket. The glass of water that they had put there this morning was still full and with one fair look Peter noticed that Neal still looked bad.

"Neal?" Peter tried. With still no sign that he was being heard Peter took his place on the foot of the bed. It took Peter a few minutes to get over the wondering sight of the sleeping criminal that looked like an angel.

He was sure that Neal was too far away when he placed a hand on his head. But how remarkable it was, Neal opened his eyes to him. A questioning look was all Peter needed to give his friend a gently smile.

"Hey, buddy. You sure sleep a lot." Peter hadn't had the heart to ask him about Hagen. Not now, at least. So, he hadn't expecting what was coming next.

"P-Peter? You're here. Finally." Neal sounded relieved. The dazed patient tried to get his head up and Peter automatically placed some pillows behind him.

"I think we need to talk."

"We do," Peter assured. But his voice was softer than he first thought this conversation would go.

Neal first eyed the glass of water and took it. He drank the lukewarm water with a frown. It tasted probably old. Peter asked him if he wanted a fresh glass, but Neal shook his head to that. Then he took a breath.

"Remember the coins?" Neal asked flatly.

Peter blinked, than smirked, because he always knew Neal was behind it.

"You stole it. Didn't you?" Neal nodded. "That. And worse. Remember Hagen's disappeared evidence?" Now, Peter's smirk was all gone.

"You burned it?"

Again Neal nodded. His head sunk to his chest. "That, and worse…"Now Peter started to feel angry again.

"The codex? Were you behind this too?" Neal bit his lip. He didn't dare to react at first. One hand unconsciously started rubbing his bad leg.

"Now… do you remember the voice recordings of my father, claiming to be guilty for the death of Senator Pratt?" Now, Neal's head got up, his deep blue eyes piercing through Peter's angry wall. It only took him a few seconds to see the patron. His eyes grew big and his throat was starting to close on him. It choked him up.

"You… y-you did that too?" The slow nod made Peter feel sick. His stomach rolled and Peter rushed himself towards the bathroom. He had to vomit.

When he was done Peter got back on his shaky feet. Elle was on the stairs looking concerned at him with a look if everything was fine. He waved her away with his assuring look; saying that it was.

She was gone after that, Peter needed to be alone with Neal for this one.

When he returned Neal was sitting up straighter. His eyes ghosted with small tears. His face ashamed.

"I did it for you and Elizabeth. I couldn't leave you there, imprisoned by my own dad's doings. It was a mistake to make this deal with Hagen. But if I don't… you would have lost everything because of me. I-I couldn't live with that." Neal shook his head. Scared and lost, he whipped his own tears.

"Don't you try to make this into a noble act, Neal. You fucking did it again. You can't just solve a problem by making it disappear with another one."

"I know… sorry…" The look on Neal's face. He was shaking. "I should've known it would backfire on me. He was out for revenge. The only thing that matter at the time was… well… you and Elizabeth…"

Peter hissed, no longer able to look at Neal because he knew the kid was crying. It took a long moment for them both to get a grip of this.

"So, you made a deal with Hagen. At what cost?" Neal didn't want to say it but had to.

"Steal things. Be his front man for a while. Bad stuff. I couldn't stop or run away from it. He will hurt people. I would go back to prison either way. I knew that. But you… He would leave you and Elizabeth alone." Peter was starting to get this. At Neal's point of view sounded like he had made a good choice. But it still wasn't. He had given Peter no change In this. And if he had, Peter would never except it. Peter was a man of the law. He would better be sitting out his sentence than getting even more of the rail.

He wasn't that kind of person. And Neal hadn't given him any choice.

Meanwhile, Neal was getting too quiet. His head sunk to his chest again. Waiting for the word that would come. But when Peter talked again, the words were different.

"Risking your life for something is never a good choice, Neal. I get your act, I do. But this… all of this isn't right. For you, maybe. Because you are always thinking like a criminal. You have no sense impulse control." Peter just felt sick again.

"I know… That is way I wanted to tell you this… b-before this was getting outta hand. I saw Hagen… He threatened me to hurt June if I don't steal his next item he want's most." Neal's eyes were glazed over by now. "He is after something special."

Peter swallowed hard before he dared to ask for more of this. Neal bit his lip before daring himself to say it. Mozzie was going to kill him for this…

"A treasure."

Silence.

A very long…

Long..

Looooong silence.

They both were done. Neal expected Peter to arrest him. But he didn't. Not just yet. Maybe he had earned some points by telling him the truth for once. And Peter expected to hear some kind of explaining about the treasure. But Neal didn't. So that could only mean that even Neal didn't know what this treasure even was all about.

Elizabeth chose that moment to join them. Neal abruptly whipped his eyes and Peter blinked his ones away.

"Everything alright in here?" Elle asked. Neal tried to hide his pale face and Peter made an attempt to smile.

"Hon. I need to talk to you for a second. And it won't be great. But Neal." And Peter was directing the kid. "We're not done yet. I have to think about this, what I am going to do with you. You understand that what you were trying to do for me was no good deed, right. Working against the law never is." Neal nodded.

"Yes I do. Just think about this before you are putting me away. It will raise flags on your case as well. Please think about yourself. I know I did make a mistake. And I'm ready for my punishment." Neal's voice shook.

Both Burkes left him there like that. And all Neal could do was: wait.

…

Neal had waited a long time. It was already getting dark outside. Then finally Elizabeth came to his room with a tray on her hands. She carried some soup and bread. And his medication. Neal looked at her with his most questionable look ever. But she only smiled like she always did.

"I made you something. You look like you could use something." She was kind. Neal smiled at her, suddenly very emotional. He was so lost. He felt so bad.

"Thank you, Elizabeth." He thought she was going away but she wasn't. In fact, Peter came in as well. His face was soft too.

"And?" he asked suddenly very very scared, like a child who knew he was in big trouble. The spoon he had in his hand started to shake.

"And what? Neal… you know what is going to happen. I will have to arrest you. But not today… Not now." El snorted at her husband.

"Not ever, Dear? Don't make him shiver." Neal didn't understand.

"Eat your soup, Neal. Relax. We are not going to arrest you. We will look at this when you're healed. As long as you share everything about this with me I will keep this between us until we have found a solution. Focus on your health. And let me focus on finding Hagen."

Neal didn't know what to say at first.

"Eat," Elle reminded him. And that was how it ended; this conversation.

After the soup and bread, the medicine and the bathroom run Neal found himself sobbing out of exhaustion. And fell asleep, again.

…

Two weeks had passed since then. No one said a thing about what Neal had done. But the tense feeling between him and Peter stayed.

But however, Neal was doing better every day and got the hang of it. Hopping to the bathroom was a bitch. But he could manage the after pain a little better every time. Mozzie had visited him twice. Both Dianna and Jones as well. He already had started on some drawings, one poem book from Elizabeth and arm lifting exercise. The room was getting way too small, every day. But he never said a thing about it. But Peter wasn't stupid. He knew Neal was from origin a very energetic person. Neal had to move. Otherwise, he would get cranky. So he promised him on a gloomy day to take him for a ride. Neal was helped in the Taurus and they drove towards a mall. A wheelchair was putted in the backseat. And For a few hours they had spent a little money for Neal for a new better fitted pants, since the plastic brace was off. Some real drawing pencils and warm socks. It was kind of ridiculous. But this shopping made him actually feel better.

He spent his day more and more in the living room with the Burkes and only got up to the stairs if he needed to go there.

…

Four weeks later the cast was gone and Neal was able to walk on crutches. Although Neal had a speedy recovery, he wasn't at full speed yet. Some things like putting on his shoes hurt like hell. Bending forward wasn't even possible yet. There was some loss of feeling under the sole of the foot. But it was manageable.

With all his water-exercise therapy he finally lost his built up energy. His smile was back, as well as his smooth chin, he hadn't shaved himself in days. And since the stairs weren't any problem anymore, Peter and Elizabeth let him go home. He was getting way to restless anyway.

Neal was like a teenager with ADHD. Always moving around. He was eager to help with everything and never ever took his hands off from things he still wasn't able to do on his own, but didn't want to admit it. Walking Satchmo was a bust, for example. If the sweet old dog started running, Neal wanted to follow but got too fast and fell down with the lack of support. Once he had fallen forward on his hands, both crutches fell far away from him. And Neal had been sitting there for nearly half an hour because he couldn't get up on his own. Luckily, a by passer helped him. Otherwise Neal's only option was calling Peter of Elizabeth to help him.

June was also back in town and knew all about the accident. The staff was keeping an eye on Neal. Just like Peter did on June. According to Neal, Hagen hasn't contacted him yet. But he made clear that if Neal was going to bail out on the deal someone was getting hurt. But somehow Peter felt like Hagen wasn't going to try anything when Neal was still on the mend. (A conmen on crutches wasn't very useful.)

On an early Wednesday morning Neal suddenly popped up at work. Jones was just about to lead his team towards the van when he spotted the poor wobbly conman coming from the elevator.

"We'll be damned," he muttered.

Everyone was very surprised since Neal wasn't supposed to work like this. He was wobbly on his feet and still on descripted pain meds; two things that didn't go well. With short hobbles Neal got himself towards the glass doors. His crutches were a bit dirty, as well as his shoes.

"Neal. What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to stay home until you're off medication? No offense," Jones tried with up held hands.

"And doing what? I got tired reading old cases. Just want to be helpful." Neal dropped himself behind the desk and started his computer. Jones's team started to chuckle and Jones had sent them away. When he was alone he walked towards the slightly not-himself-Neal.

"Caffrey. Go. Home." He was still saying this like a friend. His voice was always flat and smooth like that.

"Jones. One day you will become a great singer. But a doctor… I don't think so," Neal blurred out. With that he put his leg on a chair and flinched at the sudden pain. Despite the weird things he said Jones chose to ignore that.

"Neal, how many did you take this time. The bottle says two every six hours." Neal frowned while making his leg more comfortable with his jacket.

"Don't be silly, I took two this morning like the doctor said. I won't hurt myself when I sit down. And as long as I can sit, I can work." Jones snorted.

"Please tell me you ate something? You can't take that stuff on an empty stomach."

Neal flinched at that one. "Oh… you may have a point there. But when I was out for a pretzel I got a phone call and needed to see Peter stead." It was like Peter had developed a sense for coming to the line of sight on the right time. He walked out of his new given office and spotted his CI talking to Jones with a weird slur within his words.

"Neal? What the hell are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to come back when you're of medication?" Peter asked, still standing above the stairs. Neal looked very confused.

"You did. But I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I had to make myself useful."

Peter did grunt. He shook his head once. He even told him to go home now! But Neal was being Neal.

"Peter. Please let me help you with something. I promise I won't do this again. Besides, I can't walk back now. My leg hurts." His eyes pleading to let him stay here. Peter walked down the stairs for a better look on Neal's wellbeing. He did look tired, Peter noticed. He smelt like the rain and his crutches were leaving dirty wet marks onto the grey carpet. But wait a second… Did he just say he walked that many miles?

"You walked? What the-, Take a cab, then." Jones saw how Neal bended his head like he wasn't going to do that. So he made an offer. "Want a ride home?" Neal shook his head. His eyes were darkened by the large pupils. Both Peter and Jones saw it now. He had never acted this weird on this harmless, and yet very heavy pain meds he swallowed for over for weeks now.

"Not with these spinning walls. Maybe later?" Neal pleaded in total honesty. It was a delayed answer to Jones question. "Besides. I had to talk to Peter. Alone." Now his face started to tense up. His jaw muscles flexed. A few glances were shared then Jones left them.

Neal wasn't planning on speaking up until Jones was out of sight. When he was gone Neal moved his head to Peter. Immediately his vision swam. One crutch, the one he was still clutching on to, fell from his grip. That was when Peter noticed his hands were shivering.

"Hagen called this morning. I think he is on to me. I think he knows that you know and I was the one who let you know… Wow…"He looked up to Peter's stern face. "That's a lot of knows."

"I know." Peter couldn't belief Neal was laughing out loud while this news was in fact very serious.

"Neal. Focus. What did he ask? Did he threaten you with something he might do?" Neal shook his head.

"No. I already checked up on June, Mozz and Elle. No one is alone and kidnapped. But he did ask me to steal something this evening. A window. From up high. So... I think he doesn't know about my leggy, yet." Neal winked while patting his hurtful leg. There was a short moment when Peter was sure Neal would throw up on him but Neal didn't. He looked so sick and dizzy. Something wasn't right.

A reassuring hand fell on his shoulder.

"Are you feeling okay, Neal? You don't look eh…" Neal coughed that sounded like a dry heave.

"Don't tell Jones. I took one too many. Wasn't able to get here in one piece. I was being followed. I am sure of it. At least I think I was. Now I am not so sure anymore. Thought I might be a little safer with you."

Those eyes. So big and bright. It almost hurt to look right at them.

Peter had the urge to scream at the kid for making him scared, spooked and soft at the same time.

"L-let me check on my wife first. To see if everything is okay." Neal nodded, than shrugged.

"Go ahead. She is fine. Drinking tea with Mozz to talk about stuff we both don't get. I already checked and asked if Mozz will protect her." Neal took a pen and started to fumble with it when Peter took the phone even more stressed out.

Elizabeth answered in a swift.

"Hon? Is Neal with you? He called earlier, saying he was on his way but wasn't sure I was being kidnapped. Is he okay?" Peter heaved a sigh while smiling relieved.

"He is. But I think he just had some kind of a bad dream or something. Never mind. Just stay at home until I get to the bottom of this." Luckily Elizabeth understood him right away. "I will watch out, hon. Just get Neal home safely."

After the call he heaved another sigh. When he looked back at Neal he saw that his friend had fallen asleep. His head was resting on his arms and he was out like a light.

Peter was going to let him sleep but when his phone started to vibrate it was hard to not take it. Only to check that Hagen was bugging him to steal a damn window.

Not so smoothly as Neal could he took Neal's phone, Neal never stirred, and he looked on the ID. It was an unknown number.

"Yeah?" Peter said, trying hard to imitate Neal's voice. There was a murmur sounding in the background. It sounded like a restaurant.

After a second of this the phone call ended. Now Peter was starting to worry Neal might have told him the truth about Hagen. He nearly dropped the phone and shook Neal awake.

"What?" Neal asked fully awake, but still not in his right mind.

"Which window was Hagen talking about?"

"Oh... the one on chapter 13 from the mascon ion codex I copied." Peter grunted.

"Of course you did. Well… come with me, I will drop you off at home. Then you can show me which one Hagen wants. If we are playing this right, we can get him." Neal blinked, already starting to lose his ambitions.

"You mean like a set up? Oh god, Peter. You're so smart." Neal meant it.

…

During the drive Peter asked Neal all about the things Hagen did and Neal answered him as clear as possible. Peter had Jones analyze the phone number but the location, some crapy hotel room near the old church, was already abandoned with a letter for Peter.

"Never mind about your precious CI. I will leave you and him alone from now one. I value my freedom more than a treasure. Have a nice day, gentlemen."

Was this guy for real?

However... weeks after this they still hadn't heard from him, nor the window was taken away.

…

Neal ran through the park every day. There was nothing weird about it. His leg was healed, his condition had improved and his new sport he loved so much, swimming, made him feel better then ever. Somehow he managed to run into a redheaded girl.

"Oh! My goodness. I am so sorry. That was very stupid of me. Are you okay?" Neal asked. The girl just picked up her glasses from the ground and shook her head. Red locks were dancing around her beautiful eyes. "Oh don't worry. It happens to me every time. No one sees me."

Then she met Neal's wondering eyes.

"What did you just say?" He popped out his earplugs with a bestselling smile. Feeling silly, Rebecca chuckled.

"Oh never mind. Hi. I'm Rebecca anyway. Thought you might wanna know the name of this face."

"Yeah. I appreciate that, Rebecca. I'm Neal. Nice to meet you. Wow. Such red hair you have got." She chuckled again and now starting to feel really awkward.

"Thanks. Suits by my face, right?" Neal stopped his I-pod. Heaved a sigh and then smiled again. "I'm am in for a nice cool glass of water. You want some? There is a nice coffee place down this corner. See it as an apology."

A lot of smiles were made that day.

And how the rest of the story go… I don't know. I kinda look forward to the next episode as well. I think this Rebecca type works for Hagen. She is way too eager to help Neal with the codex and stuff.

AN: I know. Poor and lazy end. But hey.. it's a long chapter! And I am not as good as a real writer. Well.. I wish I was.. but I aint. I thought this story would be like some sort of version of season 5. But it's nothing like that. Is all about a limping Neal trying to do the right thing. And being honest for once. Please don't hate me for this story. I really tried.

Good day!

X

Josie


End file.
